Happy is the man
Who knows neither his own weight, strength
But whose emotions awaken
At every turn of the road.
Who enjoys a lifelong time of appreciation,
With every aspiration guarded.
Who spends his interest on inheritance,
And at death's door finds his capital
Of soul untouched.
That man is a man
Who follows in the shadow of the Master
The man who has a purpose in life,
Who lives in silence,
Who visualizes no other,
Will surely attain it.
He is poised on his toes,
He is ever ready to spring,
His patience and silence in waiting are his greatest activity.
Don't let your memory of past failure or discord
Swerve you from your set purpose of possibilities still unborn.
Forget by remembering future possibilities.
Think only of success,
And not only will you feed it,
But you will starve failure.
You can deform education and music,
But simplicity of purpose is like a large reservoir
With water gates made of concrete and steel
To allow only enough water to pass through
To harmonize with Nature's progress of production and consumption,
That it may neither run dry,
Nor become a flood to destroy.
The man who labors in silence and darkness
Possesses more power
Than he who holds high his hand in broad daylight
And proclaims his intentions.
In everything that appears good, you may find bad.
A gun may protect you, also kill you.
A knife has its use for or against you.
Electricity may be your servant, and also destroy you.
Food can give health, also sickness.
Small-pox virus may make you immune, but too much will cause your death.
Too much of any good thing will destroy your equilibrium, your physical poise, or mental balance.
Your body is supposed to represent the earth
In all its parts, harmoniously, in beauty and strength;
The most enduring, artistic, graceful, compact, complete mansion
Where the soul may live as the King of the Earth.
If you play fair,
Regardless how you lose, you win.
You may have a poor partner to make you lose today;
But tomorrow you will have a better partner than you are,
Who will win for you what you lost today
Just because you were or would have been a good loser,
Having done the best you could.
The more strings you find to the human harp,
The greater your song of emotions, happiness, and success.
So search for each string hidden.
See to it that it is tuned correctly.
Then you may hear every song ever sung.
You need but to listen,
And each mental faculty will vibrate its secret of life.
Listen only, for your voice can only repeat,
And you will know why the wise men are often silent.
They are listening to the voice of growth, life, and God's message.
Do you envy the success of others;
Complain at your misfortune?
If so, bear in mind that there is no living thing
That must not work in darkness of the mines.
Even the Embryo of the life within its prison walls of shell or flesh
The roots of flowers and trees,
Man in the dark ages of ignorance.
He digs up his metal for swords and plowshares, locks and powder
If he fails to wear a crown that fits him,
It was then like the tree that complained that it failed to blossom,
Because it did not labor among its roots to produce them,
Let alone the fruits longing to follow the blossoms unto life.
When God can trust His creation
He will place in Man's hand
A most precious power
To create what he will.
And when Man realizes this
He will have burned out
All inclination to do wrong.
Often men think they are making great progress
Because their feet carrying big loads run swiftly;
But are blind to the fact that they are in a revolving squirrel cage getting nowhere;
And the man sincere, working daily, sees no progress
Because he is traveling on the large ship of Progress, unaware.
It is not enough that we write a letter.
We must have the address, buy a stamp and mail it.
It is not enough to love.
We must repay.
Not enough to earn money.
We must spend it well.
Not enough to pray.
We must give prayer muscle to attain.
It is not enough to possess a steel bar to make a compass,
We need a prayer of magnetism to discern.
A prayer is but to tune in so we may realize a duty of Nature.
To show us the land-marks to obey a law
That we might live right, according to that which created our being and consciousness.
Our prayer is but a hammer to the chisel,
Hope to faith, internal light in the dark nights of doubt and despair.
It is the birth of hope
That faith may lead us to its realization,
To admit a supreme Being,
A law greater than our conception,
To recognize a power we must obey,
A wall of obedience; a recipe,
Directions to attain that which will fill a vacuum,
A felt want to complete an Ideal.
Calamities and misfortunes are but brakes applied to your freight train going down
Or sand thrown across the path of your sled that has no brakes,
In order to slow up your speed,
So you may reason why and where you are going to land, before it is too late.
Nature uses this means of vaccination while still in your prime
And strong enough to avoid and withstand the vicissitudes of life.
Don't condemn a fool for lack of wisdom.
He is at least contented,
While a man of wisdom may be happy,
But the law of adjustment gives him a personal responsibility,
Which prevents what constitutes the contentment of a fool.
Try to remember everything
On your journey up the mountain of life,
So that when you glide coasting down
You may know what to do, and avoid,
In order to complete your life successfully.
If your mind is not in your exercise,
Your heart not in your love,
You are but putting a losing, useless drain upon your energy --
A false hope in your Ideals.
No man need envy another.
Nature has so constructed its laws
That each man may create and live in a world of his own;
And as with the stars of heaven,
Need injure none by contact, though living in one mansion.
Do not fear to do wrong.
Fear rather that you might fail
To do good.
Do not think you have lost,
What you have never found.
For there is nothing ever lost,
Or ever found.
If we have "found",
It belongs to another.
If we have "lost",
It was never ours.
We still have more to learn
Of the rooms of man's mind,
To find the doors leading to that religious ecstacy,
The mystery, the frenzy of the aborigines,
The bliss of divinity felt by martyrs and saints,
The hypnotic power of our professional men
All still in its infancy.
Who shall dare to ridicule or challenge unknown facts,
The vehicle which led the human race to absolute facts,
The few that we have,
Can we not be charitable enough
To believe men sincere in their own honest convictions?
Time will prove a greater power in man's mind
Than we have thus far admitted.
You may assume vows before the eyes of men,
But the vows before the eye of your soul
Are more sacred and binding by your conscience than any others.
Every man and woman is placed in a melting pot of life,
Sorted according to his ambition.
The fire of experience either burns them to dross
Or purifies to achieve.
He who possesses character need not fear the flame of elimination;
But those who have cause to fear are but returned to whence fear lost confidence.
They are depreciated for their assumed credit.
For every plant there grows an affinity
Upon which it may live and thrive,
Be it food or love, to destroy or to save.